Fire, Death, and Family 17
by sarapals with past50
Summary: Following previous story "Saying Yes to Eli", we take Sara and Gil Grissom into a stable, happy relationship where events happen in life. A little sadness, lots of smiles, maybe a bit of sweet smut before the end!Rated T for now, may change later.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **We own nothing, not characters, not CSI, certainly not CBS. Another one following Sara and Gil Grissom into a stable, happy relationship! Enjoy--we appreciate all reviews. _

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 1**

Flowers grew taller than the boy's head—this field of wildflowers in colors of the rainbow planted for bees and butterflies and hummingbirds. Sara could see the dark head moving through paths of his own making and hear the child's voice as he sang a song of his own. She carried a basket of tomatoes in one hand and held one of her babies against her chest with the other.

"Eli, don't go far away," she called.

"I can see you," he said as he ran underneath the sunflowers and into the path in front of her, skipping and returning to his song.

It had taken Sara and Gil Grissom many years to get to this point of peace and calm. Eli had come to live with them the day she learned she was pregnant with twins. She smiled as she thought about his first day, his first week with them. He belonged to them just as the baby cradled in her arm.

They were returning from a daily walk, a well-worn path to the religious community where Sara's mother had lived for a decade. Today, tomatoes were waiting for them; every day there was something—muffins, bread, eggs, fruits as tangible things—and always the hugs and kisses and adoring words from the women who made the farm their home.

It had been difficult for Sara to understand why her mother sought such a place, why she would choose an isolated, prayerful life, surrounding herself with rituals of religion among similar thinking women. As difficult as it was for Sara, Laura Sidle had found the place she needed. Many years would pass before Sara discovered a true understanding of her mother's reasons.

When Sara needed a place of solitude, a place to regain peace, she had made her way to the same farm. In those days, she began to recognize why a person needed the quiet, restful, predictable days in such a place. She recovered, finding a purpose, learning to live again as her mother had. The time she spent on the farm with these working women, where every day was physically exhausting, helped her to make another decision. With that decision had come her destiny—their destiny, their future.

Eli let out a happy yell as he saw his father coming towards them, one baby tucked into a carrier—the twin sister of the baby she carried, and holding the hand of another little girl as she bounced along beside her dad. This was Bizzy, their oldest daughter at age two.

Always smiling, a pretty baby with dark curls and bright blue eyes; she had been their introduction to parenthood. Gil Grissom, older than most fathers by decades, had been besotted with this baby seconds after her birth. Once, he said, at his age, Bizzy was a miracle, a gift. And he took her everywhere—before she could walk, he placed her in a carrier as he gardened, shopped, worked. Sara teased, "I was only the means of her delivery."

From the time this child took her first steps, he walked with her, slowing his stride to that of a toddler. When she said her first word, he praised her for hours. He worked with her on his shoulder as she slept and kept her near as she learned to play.

Sara never anticipated having her own child and was surprised when she felt such overwhelming love for an infant—too much, she thought. She was the one who suggested another baby—maybe they could have another miracle, a second gift, so Bizzy would not be alone as she grew up. Astonishment could not define their feelings when, a few weeks later, she had a positive pregnancy test.

Within days, Grissom had been summoned to Las Vegas and returned with Eli, Warrick Brown's son. The couple often laughed—so much had happened in such a short time—from a single daughter, to a son, to twins born barely six months later, their lives had changed. As parents, they could spread this absorbing love to each child. Sara smiled as, again, she realized her love for her children had grown to envelop and enclose each one.

Sara watched as Eli ran to his dad. The boy's father had been killed; his last breaths taken as Grissom held him in his arms. The child, an infant when Warrick died, would never know his biological father, but had found a dad long before an adoption made them legal parents. Life was good to them and she quickened her own steps to reach the four people she loved.

Yet, as she walked, she noticed an edgy tension in her husband. He laughed with his children as two ran in circles around him and he lifted a hand to wave. She hurried. The baby nuzzled against her chest.

Sara kissed him. Eli giggled causing Bizzy to giggle—neither knowing exactly why, but when Grissom heard the giggles, he wrapped an arm around his wife and kissed her—longer, moving his arm up her back, to her neck, causing both babies they held to squirm and grunt, and both adults laughed.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Her eyes met his with the question and he knew she sensed his stress. He took the basket of tomatoes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 2**

"Fire in the preserve." He said, quietly.

It was a statement that needed no more explanation. Just as one prepares for bed, they had made plans for such an emergency. There was never enough rain to prevent the drying of grasses, bushes, and trees at this time of year. Their land edged a state owned preservation, and while this was usually desirable, it presented its own hazard with wildfire. Early spring rains had filled creeks and their underground tanks, providing water for fast growing fields that now lay as tender kindling. Two nights ago, distant lightening had gotten them out of bed, knowing somewhere a strike could start a fire.

"How close?" Sara asked as she shifted Ava against her hip.

"They want us out by nightfall. I called for a room near the city." The urgency of his voice betrayed his calm exterior.

"You think…"

"No—no, just extra cautious." He moved the basket and baby to the same arm so he could place a hand on her back. "We'll have an adventure." He smiled, but in his eyes, she saw worry.

The baby girls babbled and cooed at each other and at their parents. Bizzy and Eli tumbled to the ground and rolled around in child's play. Sara frowned but quickly smiled; they would pack and leave their house, to be safe, just for one night.

…The kids were fed because Sara had learned with Bizzy—a fed child was a happy child—so she cut apples and bananas and cheese and muffins so they could eat in the playroom while she took care of Ava and Annie. By some genetic instinct of twins, the babies had developed nursing times that merged into one long feeding. As Sara sat in the rocker with one against her breast and a hand on the other, she felt she was playing a role in someone else's life. How had she, a loner, independent nearly all her life, certainly never developed many lasting relationships with others, arrived at this place? Today, she was anxious to do other things, but this came first.

Grissom was working, sticking his head in every so often to ask "This?" and she would nod or shake her head.

In past years when wildfires, or fire storms, had ravaged the west, everyone had made plans, what to take, what to leave behind, what foods, clothing, bedding would be needed when disaster came. Sara and Gil had planned better than most. She had color-coded files, made lists of what to take and what to do before leaving. Grissom had made his own preparations. He cleared low-growing bushes from around the house; a new "fire retardant" roof had gone on the house, a cistern or water tank had been buried in the back yard.

Eli and Bizzy joined him as he made trips to the van; Eli asking a dozen questions and Bizzy prattling behind mimicking her brother's words and her father's answers. Sara placed the fed and sleeping infants in a stroller; her way of keeping them within easy reach as she began to pack an overnight bag for each child.

"I added some extras," said Grissom as he joined her.

They had just completed one long room built for three little girls. There were bedrooms upstairs but neither would consider the idea of children sleeping on another level, so they added this room. Eli now had his own room, the former nursery, across the hall.

Sara inspected the contents of each bag. "Do you think we will be gone more than one night?"

Again, she saw the worry in his blue eyes.

"I don't think so. The firemen and equipment should be out and there's not much wind; better to be safe and take more than we need."

"I'm ready to go!" Eli's little voice came from the doorway and both turned to look. He was wearing cowboy boots and a pith helmet, pillow in one hand, and dragging a backpack and stuffed bear in the other. Sara smiled.

"You are ready, sweetie. Do you think you can manage anything else?"

He grinned as Grissom went to help him. "Let's get your things in the van and then we can help Mom."

Slowly, yet hurried, the babies and Bizzy were placed in car seats, the stroller folded and stored. Eli and Bizzy were in the back, excited for this adventure to begin. Sara pushed a cartoon DVD into the slot and went back for Hank, who watched with big brown eyes as his family made preparations to leave. Sometimes he got to travel; other times, he remained in the house when everyone left. Today, he had seen his water bowl and bag of food go into the van.

"Put Hank in front. I'm driving the car." Grissom said as he opened the front of the van.

"Wait!" Sara exclaimed. This unexpected arrangement alarmed her more than "fire" did. "Why?"

"I put a few things in the car—I want to check on your mom and the others. Make sure they do not need help."

"Grissom."

She only used his last name when she was frightened, or anxious, or had very serious business to discuss. He knew this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 3**

"I will be right behind you. It will take fifteen minutes—everyone is ready to leave."

For the first time she was frightened. It must be much worse than she thought. "We planned to leave together—in one vehicle. Together."

He kissed her. "Sara, I need you to be safe. We need the kids safe—before the wind picks up, before traffic gets heavy. I'll check—I know they have planned for this—and I'll be right behind you—promise. I'll get there before you check in."

Sara got in the van. The babies were asleep; Eli and Bizzy were happy, waiting for the cartoon to begin. The dog was sitting in the front seat, enjoying the luxury of having a window. "Okay, but leave—soon."

"Promise." He held up his hand to wave. "I love you, Sara."

As she backed away, she looked at him seeing even more concern on his face. She could see distant clouds that were not clouds but smoke on the horizon. Quickly, she put the van in park, opened her door and stepped out. He was at the door in three strides.

"I'll be right behind you, Sara. I promise." He said as she reached arms around his neck.

"Hurry, please," she whispered. "I love you." She kissed him, passionately, holding him to her as she ran fingers through his hair. "Be safe. We'll be waiting."

He grinned and she saw relief, less worry, in his eyes. "Get out of here, woman!" His voice reflected a return to happiness that was usual. He continued to wave until they were out of sight, then he returned to the house. There were more things to do here before he checked on his neighbors.

…Sara drove and sang to her children, laughed with them at the cartoon playing in the back of the van. Bizzy dropped into a nap and Eli asked question after question that she answered with simple responses required of a four-year old. By the time she got to the main highway, traffic picked up and blinking blue lights told her that others had put into action the same plans—escape while they could. She met heavy equipment and firefighting trucks arriving but had seen no fire, just smoke billowing along the horizon.

Along the congested road, wild, tangled vines were green with purple and white flowers pushing out to the sun. Fields were dry, but not dead, and trees concealed cool earth where more wildflowers and brambles survived on little water. Houses appeared among the rolling hills, everything looked peaceful, normal; these families were not fleeing an approaching storm. It was a beautiful day before glancing back to the horizon.

By the time she arrived at the hotel, the parking lot was full of vehicles and families loaded with personal belongings, children and pets. She managed to load babies into the stroller, hold a sleepy two year old, get Eli to place his hand on the stroller, and wrap Hank's leash around her wrist. They resembled half a dozen other families when checking in and Eli quickly saw other children playing in the corner of the lobby. He pulled on his mom's shirt and pointed.

"You can play in just a little while. Let's look at our room first."

Two young teenagers volunteered to help her with bags, a cooler, and a box of food. An adventure of a hotel room to a four year old and a two year old provided entertainment for the first hour as Sara fed babies, gave crackers and juice to the older children, and tried to call Grissom. His phone rang several times before rolling over to "leave a message". She left a message, giving him the room number and asking where was he. She knew he would be walking in to the room any second.

Eli stood before her as she placed Annie into the stroller. "Can I play? Those boys looked like friends." His green eyes were so much like his father's. She found she could rarely refuse his requests, especially since he was such a sweet, generous child.

"We'll go as soon as Ava finishes. It won't be long," she said with a smile. If there was a God, he had blessed her with two sweet, loving children. She looked down at the nursing baby. She wasn't sure about these two; they seem to have their own way of doing things. As she thought this, Ava turned her face towards her mother and smiled the toothless grin of a baby. "You little monkey," Sara whispered. The baby smiled again before turning back to her primary business as Sara fingered a golden curl.

Another thought, which she often expressed, came into her mind. How had she—mother of three girls—borne children with the clear blue eyes of their father; only the oldest had the loose, dark curls of her mother. She would swear each one had the ability to raise an eyebrow just as their father could do in a self-confident smirk. Where was he, she asked herself.

The family made their way back to the lobby, Sara keeping watch for Grissom, checking her watch and phone too often. Eli was correct; boys were playing and welcomed a newcomer as quickly as children do. Bizzy clung to her mother, smiling at strangers, but unwilling to move into the improvised play area. The babies were happy in their stroller as Sara found a nearby chair, took Bizzy into her lap and held her oldest daughter, who was content for now to have her mother to herself as they watched Eli make friends and share toys from his backpack.

Eli was the one whose genes reflected his father, from his green eyes to his long slim fingers. He was the child who brought so many emotions to Sara and Grissom. Sara had heard his real father declare a son's love and devotion to Grissom; when his birth mother called, there was no hesitation about taking Warrick's son into their family.

She watched as little boys played with trucks and cars, airplanes and tanks, in some miniature game of their own making. Parents kept watch gradually entering in conversations of polite strangers, reporting local news in quiet voices. Sara watched and waited for Grissom. Mothers made introductions and pointed to their children; Ava and Annie gurgled and were entertained by an older girl blowing bubbles. Even Bizzy forgot her shyness in a new place as bubbles floated around the lobby and children squealed and chased floating effervescent orbs.

Without Grissom, Sara chose to prepare a simple meal in the room rather than brave the chaos of the restaurant. She had sandwiches, fruit, tomatoes, cookies, milk and juice that she placed on the small table for Bizzy and Eli. Both were excited about being in a hotel room, playing with other children in a new place; both unaware of the constant worry troubling their mother.

She had left several messages before deciding Grissom's phone was turned off or was not with him. It had been over five hours since she left him alone and she had heard nothing. Downstairs, the talk about fire had been quiet, but it appeared to be contained for the night, the wind had not increased—all good news. What had happened to her husband, she asked herself, as she fed children and got them ready for bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 4**

The older children were bathed and dressed for bed. Eli asked about his dad and Sara had calmly said "He will be here soon." They bounced on beds and explored cabinets and drawers while she took care of the twins. Sara folded covers back on the bed and gathered books for Eli and Bizzy before she settled between them with a baby in one arm, another cradled between her legs and a book in her hand. The two children had quickly adapted to the arrival of new babies, rarely showing jealousy or rivalry written about in parenting books. As she read, Bizzy was the first to close her eyes.

"Bizzy is asleep," Eli said, rubbing her own eyes to prevent his own sleep. He snuggled close to his mother. "Can we sleep without Daddy?"

"We can. He'll be here soon," Sara said.

"Soon is a long time," and his eyes closed.

She remained in bed letting her children sleep curled around her and each other, their presence warmed her, helping to keep a sense of calm in her troubled mind. A light knock on the door got her up. A young employee of the hotel held a folded paper.

"Message, Mrs. Grissom." She cracked the door and took the note. "I'm sorry," he said, "It came in a couple of hours ago, but we've been so busy."

It was from Grissom. _'Be there soon—taking longer than expected.'_

She breathed a sigh of relief. Any minute he should be walking in the door. She set to work on a dozen chores—covering sleeping children, moving bags and suitcases, cleaning the small kitchen, waiting. She watched a muted television until the same news was repeated three times. Finally, she crawled into the empty bed, knowing she could not sleep as she listened to the quiet breathing of four small children.

Another hour passed before she heard the click of a keycard in the door. Hank rose from his bed but she got to the door first.

"You're here." She had the door open and was pulling Grissom into the room, hugging him before he could respond. "I've been worried."

"Sara." Her name was all he had to say before he put arms around her, kissing her as if it had been days instead of hours since they parted. "Everyone okay?"

"Fine." She said as they stayed together. Sara sensed his tension, stress across his back and shoulders. "Have you heard anything?"

"The house is fine—looks like it is under control. We were lucky—all the big equipment got there quickly."

"Have you eaten?"

Hank followed them to the kitchen receiving affection from both. Grissom asked a few questions before Sara interrupted.

"What's wrong, Gil?" He had finished eating, his hand had taken hers, yet there was an unsettled appearance in his eyes.

He tried to smile and she realized what she saw was sadness.

"Something has happened," she said. His nod of his head was almost imperceptible as he stood, pulling her into his arms and moving to the empty bed. "Who? Jim? Greg? Nick?" Her first thoughts went to their friends in Las Vegas.

He had gotten them to bed and held her. "No—Sara—your mother."

"Mom? My mother?"

Years had passed since a devastating event had separated child and parent and reconciliation and reunion had brought mother and daughter together as adults.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Your mom," he gently wiped a tear that had fallen from her eye, "it was so fast—she died this afternoon."

Her eyes widened as she tried to comprehend his words. "She was fine this morning. An accident? When?"

As tears formed and fell from her eyes, he told her of arriving at the neighboring farm, finding their evacuation plans running smoothly. Animals were fed and watered; the vans were packed and ready to depart. There was no rush, but a general optimism—the fire would not reach them; this was a practice of their plans. Sara's mother had gone inside the house, and when she did not return, someone had gone inside to see if she needed help.

"She had fallen, Sara. I think it was sudden, very fast—her hand was holding a photograph. She was in her room."

His wife cried against his shoulder. Sara and Laura Sidle had established a loving relationship over the years that had become stronger once Bizzy was born. When Eli arrived, Laura had loved the little boy as a true grandson. Her quiet demeanor never varied regardless of the energetic play of two small children. When twins were born, Laura had been there to help, to care for Bizzy and Eli, and to insist the family needed a housekeeper.

"We called emergency and the ambulance was there in fifteen minutes." He wiped his eyes as he related efforts to revive breathing. "She was gone, Sara. Just in a blink of an eye."

In the darkness, Grissom held his wife as she grieved. She asked a few questions which he answered. Sara knew her mother's wishes and she knew the family of friends would see to details. She cried quietly taking his offered handkerchief; neither needed to talk yet neither could sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 5**

"Daddy," a small voice floated from the next bed. "Momma."

Sara untangled herself from Grissom's arms. "Hey, baby." She lifted Bizzy from the bed. Grissom moved to take the two-year old and Sara as she crawled back into bed. Bizzy snuggled against her dad and reached out to her mother's face. "Go back to sleep, honey." When Sara said her words, Bizzy stretched arms to her and wiggled to her mother.

"I'll take Hank out and change clothes," Grissom whispered, slipping from bed, knowing Sara's comfort would come from having a child in her arms. By the time he returned, Bizzy was asleep, curled beside her mother. "Let me move her."

Sara's hand stopped him. "Leave her between us." She smiled. "It's about the only time she gets all our attention."

He grinned. "Yeah, but just wait. Annie and Ava will be next—we're going to need a bigger bed." In her sleep, the little girl nestled against her father's shoulder.

Sara smiled at both. "You know, that's my place she's taken."

Grissom moved Bizzy to his chest. "It's still your place. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She put her head in the space where his arm met his shoulder, a place she claimed years ago as the place she belonged. "I learned a while ago we have to take care of the living. I wish I had been there—with my mom—I'm not sure which is better—to know or to be surprised."

"Once I said I'd like to see the rainforest and the pyramids, to know I was dying, but now, I want to live to be very old, see my kids grow up and be happy, go to bed one night at age ninety and not wake up." He shifted their daughter so she lay across both of them. "Your mother was happy seeing you happy."

Sara brushed away tears. "When will everything be finished?"

Grissom knew she was referring to the university's research center. Laura Sidle, along with the Catholic nuns she lived with, had donated her organs for research. "Sister Deborah said the donation would be done quickly, body released for services by tomorrow or the next day." He placed a kiss on her forehead. "She was holding the photograph from the day we adopted Eli. That's what she went back to get."

He felt Sara's smile on his skin before she kissed him. "Thank you, Gil."

He wasn't sure why she thanked him, but hearing her sigh and feeling her relax, he knew she would be okay.

…Morning came early for four young children. The twins woke within minutes of each other, willing to wait as they babbled to each other. Eli stretched and yawned until he focused on the forms in the other bed, realizing his parents and sister were there. He tumbled out of bed and found a place by his dad who was already awake.

When Eli realized he had someone to talk to, he whispered questions. "We played with new boys—can I play again? Can we eat breakfast with them? Do we have to wait on all the girls? Is our adventure trip ended?"

Grissom smiled at Eli. At four, he already knew there were times when men and boys needed to be together. "We'll wait until mom wakes up; she might want to go with us for breakfast. We can walk Hank first."

"I'm awake," Sara said. "Go ahead. Bizzy will sleep another hour. Put the babies in bed with me and we'll be fine."

The man and boy were out of bed and into the bathroom in minutes. Sara heard the noise as did the babies who began to fret after waiting patiently for attention. Grissom returned, changed diapers, cuddled one, then the other before passing them to Sara. Their sister, sleeping soundly, had straightened legs and flung arms outward to stretch across the bed vacated by their father.

…Father and son returned much later carrying a plate of waffles, finding three little girls awake and playing in the middle of the bed with their mother. Eli joined the play while Sara moved to the kitchen to eat.

"How are you?" Grissom asked.

"I'm fine, really. What a circus we have, Gil. There's not much time to think, but I do need to call—I'm sure there are things I should do."

He shook his head. "The Sisters will take care of everything. We'll go downstairs—Eli and his friends from yesterday are ready to play. The air is clear outside, so we'll be there. Call Sister Deborah; she will want to hear from you. The fire is contained; we can go home later." His hand covered hers. She had slept little and ate only a few bites. "What can I do?"

She smiled. "You've already done all you can." Her eyes filled with tears again. "What made you stay yesterday? Why did you decide to go by their house?"

He shook his head. "I wanted to secure the house—I was afraid the women might need another pair of hands—I knew the kids were safe with you." He covered her hand with his before announcing it was time to go play.

_A/N: Sorry about the death of Sara's mom. It just happened quite by accident, tho we think it came from our own experience with our grandmother who died just before a hurricane. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 6**

…Everything was as they had left it. The wildflowers still bloomed and swayed in a gentle breeze. The trees lining the driveway were green and glistened with developing apples unlike the scorched areas they had passed on their way home. The bright blue cloudless sky brought a measure of comfort to Sara as she unloaded things from the van. Home was untouched. She could not say the same about her emotional state. She watched as Eli chased Hank and Bizzy ran after both; Annie was in a baby swing on the porch while Ava watched from the stroller.

There was much to do, Sara thought, as she entered her home. A note was propped on the table along with a fruit pie, a loaf of bread, and fresh flowers. She turned to see Grissom at the door.

"Our neighbors have already visited today and invited us to dinner." He came to her wrapping strong and steady arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder. "They are worried about you."

"I'm fine, Gil. My mother was where she wanted to be. She had found peace—and she loved her grandchildren."

Late afternoon, they arrived at the farmhouse where Laura Sidle had lived to find it full of guests who had arrived all afternoon after hearing of her death. Many were women who had visited the community over the years; others were church members or local neighbors. Sara and Grissom knew a few of the visitors, and everyone knew Laura.

After dinner, the group gathered in the small chapel to hear the Catholic prayers of devotion from the local priest. The next day, a small group would travel to the cemetery to bury the body, but tonight, they celebrated her life with them.

* * * *

…"We'll take care of the children; take Sara to the city. She—she is to thin. She needs to rest, eat without interruption."

The woman speaking was helping collect honey from Grissom's hives. In her sixties, Sister Deborah was the selected leader of the religious community where Laura Sidle had lived until her death. She had been the person responsible for the tranquil, composed life of Sara's mother; she had given Sara refuge in a time when her own life had needed peace. Now she was giving a friend's advice to Grissom—but he knew it was more than a simple suggestion.

"I'm not sure she will leave. The twins are ready to walk—she doesn't want to miss their first steps." He straightened from his work. "She's happy—she loves those babies." He laughed. "We are both happy, but you're right. We haven't been away since—I can't remember."

"She won't miss their steps—we'll make sure of that." The older woman laughed as she placed the rack inside the hive.

"I don't think she will go."

"Insist. You two need some time. At least four of us, plus Lilly and her daughter—that's six adults and four children—we can manage." Lilly had been their part-time housekeeper since the arrival of twins and had become a valuable asset in their home.

They could see the subjects of their discussion playing on swings and a slide. Sara was holding a dark haired, little girl in her arms as the two glided to the bottom of the slide. Two smaller babies, with hair that resembled curly blonde halos, were in colorful baby swings and a slim, dark-haired little boy was climbing a ladder to the top of the slide.

…Reluctantly, Sara agreed to leave her children in the care of their neighbors, knowing the women would see to every need and knowing the children were familiar with the women who would be staying with them. As they drove away, driving less than two hours to the city, leaving for two nights, she kept looking back.

"I think I've forgotten something," she said.

"They will be fine. It's less than two hours." He pulled her hand to his lips. "They will have the best of care." He had given orders to all the women who were staying with the children. One of the baby girls was ready to take her first steps. She was not to be encouraged until her mother returned; if she walked—well, they promised not to tell.

…They checked in to one of the oldest, grand hotels in the city and immediately, Grissom was surrounded by fellow conference attendees. He was making one short presentation on his bumblebee research, but was greeted as a primary attraction. Sara waited. She was always fascinated by his effortless ease with strangers who knew him by his writings.

The bellman rolled their luggage along the quiet hallway as they followed. Grissom had wrapped an arm around her in the elevator, gently caressing her shoulder. Sara smiled; he was trying to suppress his satisfaction, his pleasure that she had agreed to come with him.

The door opened to their room. The hotel employee stood to one side as they entered and Grissom dropped his hold and let her move into the room. He had watched her numerous times in her exploration of a new room.

Midway into the room, she turned to smile. "Nice."

The drapes were pulled open to reveal one of the most spectacular and recognized scenes in the world, a stunning view of the bay with its best known bridge and overlooking the city cascading below. One bed sat in the center of the room— lavish in its simplicity. Sara stood at the window while Grissom took care of luggage and dismissed the bellman.

He handed her a cell phone. "Call home."

She took the phone, but made no call. "I promised not to call—until tomorrow." She grinned. "I'm really fine. You are right—I do need to be able to leave them." She turned into his arms. "I'm not even going to ask how you managed this room. You know how I love this city."

They remained together watching distant ships and boats in the bay.

"I'm going downstairs for a short time. When I return, the rest of the day is ours—whatever you want to do."

Sara stayed at the window remembering events in her past, of walking the streets, of hidden nooks and crannies, of all those things one does in youth before the frailty and reality of life imposes on ones hopes and dreams. The quiet settled around her—unusual silence of hearing no one else.

Her shoes were left by the window. She stepped out of her pants and folded the expensive bedcovers back and slipped between sheets as fine as silk. She stretched and listened to her own breathing, but before her head made an impression on the pillow, her eyes closed and she slept…

_A/N: This one has 3 or 4 more chapters to go. Enjoy, and thanks so much for your comments!_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This is the sweet smut chapter! Read, enjoy, review!! Thanks for all your comments.

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 7**

When her eyes opened, the room was no longer washed in bright sunlight but dimmed in the dusky golden glow of twilight. Her eyes focused on the figure in a chair pulled to her bedside. His eyes were on hers and a smile formed on his lips.

"Hey," he whispered.

She returned a smile. "I slept too long. The day is gone."

"You needed to rest."

She stretched and yawned. "It was so quiet."

He moved from his chair to the bed taking her hand in his. "I love you, Sara." He laced his fingers with hers. "I forget to tell you."

Sara smiled again, relaxed and warm, as she moved her hand to his shirt. "You show me every day, Gil." Her smile changed to one of seduction. "We are alone in a beautiful room, husband—why am I alone in bed?" Her husky voice brought a chuckle from him as he moved from the bed to disappear into the bathroom. She heard the noise of water running before he reappeared waving his hand.

"Big tub," he said, the tender tone in his voice unmistakable.

She giggled when she saw the tub filling with water and bubbles. His hands slid against her skin as he removed her shirt. She's too thin, he thought, as she turned to him with slim fingers working buttons on his shirt, pushing it from his shoulders.

"I'll be right back," he said. "One thing I need to do."

By the time he returned, Sara was in the water almost covered by bubbles and clouds of steam. "What was so important, Gilbert, that you had to leave me?" Her laughing, provocative voice hurried his actions and he stepped into the tub before he answered.

"Room service. I ordered food." He lowered himself into the water as she moved from one end of the tub to sit between his legs.

"We could go out later, find something to eat, take a walk."

His chest rumbled as his hands surrounded her abdomen, moving along wet skin as she leaned against him. "I think I have all I need or want right here." He reached for a switch that turned on pulsing jets of water, made another adjustment which changed the water to a slow rolling wave motion.

She turned, curled against his shoulder and sighed. "I should call."

"They are fine, Sara. I called home before you woke up. Lilly and her daughter are there with Sister Deborah and two others—it sounded like they are having a good time."

Her hand moved to his face and gently stroked his jaw before kissing him. He returned her kiss, parting her lips with his tongue, feeling her smile. His arm circled her back and found that intimate spot where her chest began to swell. His fingers cupped and caressed her breast finding its firm crown. Their kisses deepened. Wet hands and fingers intertwined as legs wrapped. She relaxed as his hands massaged her back; her delicate fingers found the pleasure points along his chest.

He reached for the ornate hand shower and adjusted the spray, combing her hair with his hands as he emptied shampoo into his palm. She leaned her head back and he kissed the shallow depression at her throat.

"Sexy woman—we need out of this tub," he whispered. He had remained in the tub until his body ached with desire.

Her hands seem to find sensitive places on his body with precise and delicate touches causing him to respond as she wanted. Somehow they managed to exit the tub, wrap towels around their bodies, and remain entwined—her lips never left his. His need pressed against her body and he heard a husky giggle.

"Bed," he said.

Sara unrolled from his grasp and the towel, running naked across the room and slipping into the bed. He followed dropping the towels in the process.

His passion brought her response; as long-time partners they knew what excited the other, what brought delight in love-making. Her hands held him, her long fingers explored with feather touches, her lips, her tongue touched and teased in places known only to her. He could feel her smiling lips when he groaned.

She was ready for him; her black eyes flashed as he reached for the square packet at the bedside. She took it from him and tore the wrapper with her teeth. His body throbbed as she slowly, carefully, and with exaggerated effort unrolled it. Within seconds, he was above her, inside her warm, wet, welcoming center of desire. He felt her breath against his neck.

"I love you," he whispered.

It had been months since they had experienced intense passion. In this elegant hotel, the muted sounds of the city far below, they rediscovered the passionate, prolonged sexual power that neither had forgotten. It had been quietly shelved in their day to day lives, but tonight, this drive was awakened. Remembered experiences came back as fingertips touched, lips met, and words whispered.

He always thought of the sea as he made love to her—a powerful surge of waves and surf, sometimes predictable, often overtaking every sensation in his body. He neither knew nor cared if he tumbled to the bottom because she, this woman who desired him without question, would save him, bring him with her, leading him into calm currents—warm, fluid, life-giving.

They were spent, exhausted, yet unable to pull apart.

"We've let the food get cold," she whispered.

"It doesn't matter." There was a chuckle in his voice. "I ordered only desserts."

She laughed, softly, teasing his neck with her flickering tongue. Neither wanted this time to end. "Chocolate?"

"Yes, and strawberries and whip cream and cheesecake."

She slid under the covers to taste his chest; lips touching his skin in caressing kisses. "I love desserts." He groaned as she slipped further under the sheets, playing her tongue and fingers along sensitive areas only she knew. Gentle pressure of her palm pressed against his thigh. His hips moved against her in an involuntary movement.

"Sara." His breath caught in his chest. He could say no more. She knew what she was doing as she quickly moved against him generating heat and bliss, desire and pleasure. He could wait no longer as instinct drove him to her. She rose above him, throwing covers behind her body as an all-consuming loss of conscious thought took over her actions. Her breathing stopped for seconds as passion overwhelmed all other senses. He managed an edge of control before she collapsed on his chest and he wrapped arms and legs around her as he rolled above her.

"Dear God, there is a heaven," she said as her breathing returned to normal.

Her words brought laughter to both. "You are heaven, Sara." His hand pushed her hair away from her face. Her brown eyes were liquid pools of dilated darkness. "You may have to resuscitate me; I don't think I can move," he said.

"Food. I'm hungry." Sara slipped from the bed, finding a shirt to throw around her as she moved a tray to the bed. The room service cart was one of old-fashioned elegance; food covered with silver domes, a flower in a crystal vase. She made a delighted sound as she uncovered a plate to find whipped cream, another with strawberries, another with chocolate warmed by its container. Pineapple, kiwi, raspberries, peaches and pears were arranged on a tray as a tart. She smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 8**

Grissom had been truthful; he had ordered only desserts—two different cakes, a slice of apple pie, fruit and whipped cream, cheesecake with blueberries, and chocolate sauce as thick as pudding. He watched as she dipped a finger in cream, then chocolate. By then she was back in bed wearing his shirt, her hair curling naturally around her shoulders, laughing and teasing.

"I love you, Sara."

Her face turned to his, a gentle, sweet smile on her face, her eyes dancing. "Oh, Gil, I know—I love you so much." Her head came to rest against his shoulder. "Every day, I realize how good you've made my life, how much you love our children."

He took a cherry from the tray and placed it in her mouth. Between her giggles and his laughter, she managed her mouth trick, tying a knot in the stem with her tongue before holding it between her teeth. She had done this same trick hundreds of times, always causing him to laugh.

Most of the food disappeared.

"I was hungry." Sara's spoon scraped the last of the whipped cream from its bowl.

"We can order more, Mrs. Grissom."

She laughed and propped herself against pillows. Her hand rested on her belly. "I'm full—cake, pie, all that fruit—I need to take a walk."

Grissom collected plates and empty containers and cleared the bed. Sara watched as he maneuvered the cart to the hallway and snickered as he kept his naked body behind the door while pushing the cart through the doorway.

"I love your butt," she said with a laugh as he turned around and before he reached the bed, she realized she loved other parts of his anatomy just as well.

The quietness of the night settled around them as the two wrapped warm arms together. "Thank you for coming, Sara."

She kissed his jaw, his chin, his lips as he smiled. She raised her head causing her hair to fall around their faces. He knew she was smiling and he knew there was a question coming.

"What?" He asked.

She cupped her chin and rested on his chest. "One more, Gil. I want one more baby." She knew his thoughts as well as he knew hers.

"Why am I not surprised?" His hands brought her face to rest against his. "Annie and Ava are not walking yet and you want another one." He chuckled a low laugh. "I knew years ago you would make a wonderful mother—we should have married then."

She snorted. "It took years to get you to notice me! When did you think that?"

"Years ago—you told me you left the little girl in the car with the windows cracked. If I remember correctly, Warrick and Nick nearly split a gut trying not to laugh. I knew then I wanted you—pure, unadulterated lust—as the mother of my children."

She soft punched his ribs. "You did not. You ignored me for years."

"Five, Sara. Do you think we can handle five?"

"It's already a circus most of the time—what's one more little monkey? And maybe, we would have a little boy—with your butt!" She giggled again as she turned and curled even closer. "You know—we grew up with one parent. I know I would have been different—had a different life, different way of looking at things—if I had sisters and brothers. My mother was an only child—her life, what happened to her—I think things would have worked out so much better—she had no one but me, and most of the time I was not a good daughter."

Grissom knew it was difficult for Sara to talk about her childhood and she did so in the vaguest of terms.

"We will probably have another girl."

"Four girls—poor Eli. I'll name her after my mom. But maybe I'll get my little Gilbert."

…Sara slipped into the back of the large conference room crowded with men in suits, young adults in jeans and tee shirts, women in business attire, and dozens dressed in casual working clothes of researchers. Gil Grissom had pulled a mixed, interesting group to listen to his presentation on bumblebees. He had taken the lead in this project by accident and now had a nationwide following of volunteers counting bumblebees.

She stood at the back, watching and listening, as he talked, showing photographs, charts and graphs from across the country, of areas where bumblebees had disappeared, and fields of flowers where the big bee had been reestablished. He smiled when he saw her leaning against the back wall.

The rest of the day, he spent with her, walking major streets filled with tourists and locals in the clatter and clash of dozens of different languages. They found side streets and narrow alleys with swirling, towering roof lines and flashing signs, small quiet plazas served as an oasis for cafes and coffee bars and games of chess and toddling babies. Sara found the hidden street of a mystery writer and pointed to iron balconies with Chinese cornices and pagodas and smiling Buddhas. They entered a tiny temple covered with red lanterns and statues and incense to see alters dedicated to long forgotten homes and events in the distant past. Grissom folded delicate rice paper around his donation as he passed bills to an elderly guardian.

Late in the afternoon, they returned to an area hidden from many—a cobblestone path through a garden that Sara had led him to when they met the first time. It had not changed in years. Trees, vines, and a riot of flowers made a green tunnel that opened onto a wooden staircase overlooking the bay. On his first visit, Grissom had been stunned into silence as the young girl he followed stopped and stepped aside.

Today, they walked together, linked arm-in-arm, noticing the fluttering birds and flower pots hanging from shingle houses. When they reached the top, they stood in silent awe as the city and the bay stretched below them as a magic carpet.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Yes," he said but he was no longer looking at the view, but the woman standing beside him.

_A/N: Two more chapters to conclude this one. Thanks so much for the reviews, comments! _


	9. Chapter 9

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 9**

Four children stood in front of their mother. Heads dropped as she scolded in her soft voice.

"Who did this?" She asked. She knew the answer. Sugared cream lined the lips of two little girls—angelic appearances belied their true natures as their eyes met hers in pretended innocence. The look was one of their father's—how many times had he raised a similar mocking eyebrow. Blonde ringlets could barely be contained by the colorful clips in their hair and their mother knew denial was on their tongues. "No" had been their first word.

The third little girl, her dark hair so similar to her mother's, raised blue eyes to meet her mother's brown ones and quickly shifted a side glance at her brother. Her eyes were already flooded with tears, but no sound escaped.

The oldest child, Eli, hooked thumbs into his belt loops and kept his head down. He knew his sisters would not tell but looked to him to answer.

The object of the question sat on the table. It had been a beautiful cake, specially made and delivered for their dad's birthday.

But something had happened that started out as just a small taste by one finger. Eli had dipped one finger into the fluffy frosting and when his sister, Bizzy, had asked for a taste, another finger full of frosting had gone into her mouth. Then Ava had stomped her foot and demanded her own bite and insisted on dragging her own finger around the side of the cake. As soon as Annie saw what was happening, she climbed into a chair and used two fingers for a taste.

Six year old Eli realized his younger sisters were making a mess of things, so he divided the cake into four equal parts by using his finger. In just a few minutes, only bare cake layers remained, stark and naked in the center of the table—just as their mother appeared in the doorway.

No one had answered her question.

"Okay—all of you. Chair time. I'll decide when you can get up."

The four children slowly walked to four small chairs; three pairs of blue eyes kept watching their brother for any sign of a response. They turned their chairs to face a wall, each knowing the procedure of punishment—no talking, no playing, just silence until their mother decided the penalty had been satisfied. Eli's green eyes briefly met the blue eyes of each sister. He felt a certain satisfaction that they had not tattled. The tears of Bizzy disturbed him the most. She would never tell on him, but her tender emotions made his chest hurt as silent tears ran down her face.

Sara watched her children sit in the playroom chairs. She had stifled laughter as she watched their sober procession and now turned back to the cake. A door opened and her husband appeared with their dog. He saw the woman he loved holding their newest addition—a son, Will, in one arm, and a box of sugar in her hand. The baby squirmed to reach his father. Sara had gotten her wish—a male child the image of his dad, right down to the cleft in his baby chin and twin dimples on his backside—along with a scar across her lower abdomen as evidence of her only difficult pregnancy.

"Where is everyone?" He kissed her and took the baby. "Hey, little buddy—where is all the noise?"

She held a finger to her lips and pointed at the cake. "Your birthday cake. No one admits guilt—even with sugar on their lips! Can you believe that?" Both quietly laughed.

"And you have them in the chairs?" Grissom walked around the table, laughing. "I wish I had a hidden camera." He inspected the cake. "It looks as if they licked it clean."

Sara's hand covered her mouth as she muffled a laugh. "You should have seen their faces. It took less than three minutes! I changed Will and this was done—Eli has them well trained. No one tattled."

Back in the kitchen, they heard sniffles and sobs coming from the playroom. "Bizzy was already in tears—I'm sure all of them are crying by now." She took the baby from him. "Go tell them…"

Grissom stepped to the doorway, announcing, "Mom says you can get up now!"

Immediately, he was overtaken by four pairs of arms and a rambling of words of welcome until he asked why they were being punished. The girls grew silent and looked at their brother whose eyes briefly met his mother's. He breathed deeply and stuck hands in his pockets.

"We ate your cake—the best part."

"You did?" Grissom had knelt to put arms around the children as each managed to find a way to snuggle against him. "Was it good?"

Three curly heads nodded, but Eli shook his head, his fingers pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes. "It was when we ate it, but now I'm sad we did. It was your birthday cake." He sniffed as a tear dropped.

Grissom's eyes met Sara's, both suppressing the laughter, and Sara turned her back to hide her amusement.

"Eli, I'll bet you and Mom can make another frosting—even better. I'll take the girls and pick flowers for the table while you two work on it."

Tears and sniffles disappeared as the three girls giggled and ran to find shoes and a flower basket.

Eli hugged his mother. "I'm sorry. I did it first." He backhanded his eyes. "I won't do it again."

Sara knew it would not be frosting on a cake, but there would be a next time when he was leader of misbehavior, urged on by three whispering sisters. She kissed him, put the baby in his highchair and pulled the step stool out for Eli.

"We can make this better, but not as beautiful as it was," she explained as she gathered sugar and whipping cream, showing him how to pour sugar into a bowl.

"You have mail," Grissom passed a letter to her, smiling as she took the envelope and looked at the return address.

Her eyes brightened—a publisher—thicker than two previous ones. She smiled as she read the letter. "A check! They have accepted my manuscript! I'm to be published, Gil! A real author!"

Grissom wrapped arms around her, kissing her passionately. "Congratulations—I knew you could do it."

_A/N: One more chapter for this one!_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Last chapter of this story!_**

**Fire, Death, and Family Chapter 10**

"Daddy—ready!"

"Daddy, flowers, now!"

"Sunflowers, I want sunflowers."

"Not the ones with bees!"

"I want blue ones to match my eyes." This came from Annie, one of the twins and the only girl to get what her mother called "the girly gene".

Sara and Gil separated enough to look downward as three faces smiled up at them, feet dancing in bright plastic shoes.

"What's next, Mom?"

Eli's question caused Sara to turn in his direction just as the baby joined in the noisy commotion, clearly saying "Da-da," reaching arms to his father. The baby was picked up and with giggles and tumbling excitement, little girls, along with their father and baby brother, exited the house.

Sara and Eli worked on repairing the cake. As they spread the sweetened whipped cream around the cake, Eli said, "We don't have to tell Sister Deborah do we?"

Sara smiled. "No, we won't tell her. It was very nice of her to bring a cake and we'll have to tell her how good it was." Sara knew Eli wanted the neighboring nuns to think well of him. She watched as the little boy spread fluffy white cream across the top of the cake. "You are a good boy, Eli, and your sisters look up to you to do the right thing."

He nodded as he worked on the cake. "I made them promise not to tell."

"And they didn't tell, did they."

"No." His bright eyes looked up from the cake. "It was wrong to make them promise, wasn't it?"

"I love you, Eli." She placed an arm around him and hugged him. "Promises are a good thing, but we must be careful what we promise."

She started singing words to a familiar song. Eli joined her. After several lines, he stopped.

"Wait, Mom." Sara stopped singing. "We need new words—we need to sing 'As long as there's the seven of us', not just two."

"You are right." They started singing again.

Grissom heard the two harmonizing voices as he held a finger to his lips for quiet. "Mom and Eli are singing; let's listen," he whispered. The girls hushed, making the same motion to each other as they entered the house with hands full of flowers, trying to be quiet so they could hear the song.

"You've got to laugh a little, cry a little, until clouds roll by a little. That's the story of, that's the glory of love. As long as there's the _seven_ of us, we've got the world and all its charms…"

Attempted silence lasted only until the children entered the kitchen and saw their mother and brother putting the last swirl of frosting on the cake. Giggles and flowers, eager words, delighted squeals and running feet filled the room.

Grissom held his infant son and quietly finished the words of Sara's song—"That's the story of, that's the glory of love"—as he watched his wife and children—his family.

The End!

_(Here's recognition to Benny Goodman and Bette Midler for above lyrics!) This is the seventeenth story of our version of Sara and Grissom. Thanks for reading and your kind reviews!_


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